For a moment he wondered if memory was playing tricks on him. But when she lifted her head and met his gaze, the recognition in her eyes was unmistakable. Taryn had once been his closest friend, his college partner, the person he had imagined building a life with. Then his software company won an accelerator grant and he left Illinois overnight. He promised to call. He promised to visit. Startup life swallowed him whole, and the promises faded.
He had pictured her living a comfortable life somewhere quiet. He never imagined this.
“Taryn,” he said quietly. She flinched and looked away.
“Mason,” she murmured. “You look well.”
Her voice was strained, almost hoarse. Mason crouched down beside her. “Are you alright? What happened?”
Before she answered, the youngest child stirred and let out a soft whimper. Taryn pulled him closer and whispered soothingly. Mason studied the children. Rhys, the oldest, looked about seven. Jonah seemed a few years younger. And the little girl, Brielle, nestled between them, clung to her mother’s sleeve. Their features echoed his own. The shape of their chin. The color of their eyes. Even their expressions.
He felt the ground tilt slightly beneath him.